


Not Yet, But Soon

by dem_hips



Category: InuYasha - A Feudal Fairy Tale
Genre: F/M, Series Spoilers
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-04-09
Updated: 2012-04-09
Packaged: 2017-12-12 02:13:01
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 933
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/805947
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/dem_hips/pseuds/dem_hips
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Musings on Sango and Miroku’s relationship before the timeskip.  End-of-series spoilers!</p>
            </blockquote>





	Not Yet, But Soon

That night Shippou slept outside, right where the well had been, and no one had the energy to argue.  They’d have mourned, or panicked, or been anxious, but none of them had even the strength for that.  Somewhere amidst fighting Naraku and losing to his illusions and winning to them and more fighting and watching comrades fall and revive--somewhere amidst the danger and the curses and the clock ticking down, down, down--between defeating him and coming home safely, only to have Kagome ripped from their midst--their adrenaline seeped away, the elation of their triumph dampened as with a sudden, cold storm.  They watched InuYasha chase after her and then there was nothing any of them could do but wait, and worry.  And worrying took so much out of them that they didn’t even have to begin with.  
  
That night Kaede took Kohaku and Rin with her to tend to the injured villagers and those who were in mourning, and Miroku and Sango slept heavily, on either side of a paper curtain as they always had.  
  
On the second day the sun roused the village from its heavy rest, and those who had the strength began repairing huts and fences and re-tilling fields.  Kaede set everyone to task, and because she was always the most level-headed in the village they obeyed her.  Shippou stood watch by the barren spot where the Bone Eater’s Well once stood, and no one had the heart to tell him to move.  
  
InuYasha and Kagome didn’t come back.  
  
Evening came, and their strength waned with the light.  What food had been left untouched by Naraku’s miasma was carefully rationed and barely enough to line the bellies of those who survived his attack.  The villagers went to bed hungry, or injured, or both.  Rin climbed the highest tree she could and scanned the skies through half-melted branches, wondering quietly to herself whether Sesshoumaru meant to leave her here.  Below her, Shippou wept into the ground as if trying to revive the well all on his own.  In a small hut not too far away, Miroku and Sango settled down with the curtain between them, exhaustion sealing their lips and weighing down their eyelids.  
  
But Miroku stayed awake and listened to the rustling to his right, that of a restless sleeper who could not find peace.  He waited patiently, still, and listened, and when eventually the movements ceased, it was with such a heart-shattering sigh that the monk felt the rhythm in his own chest double to make up for it.  
  
“Sango?”  
  
To his right, she sucked in a quick breath.  “I’m sorry if I woke you,” she replied, exhaustion clinging to her every word.  
  
“I wasn’t asleep,” he assured her, and he opened his eyes as if he could see through the heavy paper and the heavy darkness. “What’s wrong?”  Her face needn’t be visible to tell him that much, at least.  But Sango’s mind could be such a complicated place.  
  
There was a light rustling of cloth, and a pause.  “I...It’s just...”  
  
Miroku waited, while she sorted things out.  
  
“By now, I’d hoped...”  She shifted again, uncomfortably, and he waited, as long as she needed.  “We were supposed to be married,” she said, “by now,” so quietly the darkness almost swallowed up her words.  
  
Miroku opened his mouth to speak.  
  
“And I know,” she continued, misery granting her voice volume. “It’s selfish.  Kagome-chan’s gone and InuYasha’s disappeared.  And there’s so much left to fix and so many people who haven’t yet healed.”  
  
“Sango...”  
  
“And your curse has been lifted now, so there’s no hurry.  Only--”  
  
“Sango!”  He lifted his own voice some, because she was starting to speak too fast, her voice rising slowly in pitch.  She quieted.  “It makes me happy,” he said, his smile lending itself to his words, “that you’re so impatient.  And I don’t want you to think I’m not as well.”  
  
“Houshi-sama...”  
  
Miroku reached out, the tips of his fingers finding the wooden frame of the curtain and sliding it down.  By now their eyes had adjusted to the dark, and he could make out Sango’s features just in time to see her turn her face away.  “Sango, look at me.”  
  
At least in the dark he couldn’t see the heat rising in her cheeks, or the tears pooling in her eyes, but he reached out and his hand against the side of her face felt it all and his thumb brushed them away gently, knowing how ashamed of them she’d grown.  “We must have faith in them.  Hold on for just a little longer.  They’ll come back, and then...”  
  
And then.  
  
He ran his fingers down her neck and across her shoulder and traced her arm with the palm of his hand until their fingers met.  And he relished every moment how free his hand was, the way she felt against his bare skin, unhindered by the cursed hole that had vanished with Naraku.  She squeezed his hand and he squeezed back, as if to lend her what strength he could, for they were all at the ends of their ropes these days.  
  
“Houshi-sama--”  
  
“Miroku,” he corrected, interlacing their fingers.  
  
“Not yet.”  He could see just well enough to make out the hint of a smile lighting up her eyes, lifting one corner of her mouth.  
  
“But soon,” he consented, smiling back.  
  
“Yes.  Soon.”  
  
With their hands laced together, they fell asleep.  
  
On the third day, they took Shippou’s watch together.  Late in the afternoon, the Bone Eater’s Well returned, and so did InuYasha.  Kagome was not with him.


End file.
